Dangerous Ground
by Anya2
Summary: To say Dean didn’t like her would be untrue. To say he resented her presence would be more accurate. He knows it will take a lot for her to prove herself to him but he never before realised that she was more than capable of doing so. DeanOC


**Title: **Dangerous Ground  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Characters:** Dean, Sam, OFC  
**Pairing: **Dean/OFC  
**Warnings:** Bit of Dean Whump but nothing too serious.  
**Spoilers: **None

**Summary: **To say Dean didn't like her would be untrue. To say he resented her presence would be more accurate. He knows it will take a lot for her to prove herself to him but he never before realised that she was more than capable of doing so.

* * *

Seventeen miles east of Tallahassee, Florida was Caney Creek, a tourist trap that sat quietly on the shores of Lake Miccosukee. There was nothing much to see there, just a few cabins scattered amongst the trees, available for rent by the tourists and fishermen that kept the place running. It was currently out of season though and next to no one was around. Therefore no one heard the gun shots, cries of surprise and pain and the general sounds of a nasty fight that sudden shot from one of the cabins that evening.

Within moments the door slammed open and Dean Winchester staggered out and down the steps, one of his arms bleeding heavily and hanging limp by his side although somehow his hand still managed to clutch on to the shotgun. The other arm supported his brother, dragging Sam along, semi conscious from a blow to the head and almost a dead weight next to him.

A dozen or so feet from the door Dean cursed when he realised that she wasn't with them.

Damn pain in the ass chick was going to get him killed, he'd always known it. Ignoring the way his left arm throbbed in pain and how the muscles of his right burned in protest at trying to support Sam's weight, he clumsy turned back to the building.

"Izzy!" he hollered at the top of his lungs, a firm order to get her dumb ass out of there.

He was just about to start praying that he wasn't going to have to go back in there and get her when she shot out of the door, slamming it shut behind her and running down the steps. One of the creatures was obviously a bit smarter than the others though and it was already climbing out of the chimney stack and scuttling down the roof in pursuit. As she ran it took a flying leap for Izzy, its leathery wings giving it the ability to travel much further than it could have done by jumping alone.

The impact on the back of her head knocked her heavily to the ground but fortunately she had enough instinct to roll straight over and grab the creature as it dived for her, holding it at arm's length, trying to avoid the gnashing teeth and swiping claws whilst it screamed in her face.

Cursing yet again Dean raised his free arm, trying not to let the stabbing pains that swept through his wounds affect his aim. After all he didn't want to blow her head off. Not right at that moment anyway.

The blast from the shotgun rang out loudly. His weakened arm couldn't hold on as it recoiled and the weapon thudded heavily to the ground.

By the time it was in his grip again, Izzy was on her feet and the creature was lying a few yards away twitching on the floor in its death throes.

"Move it!" he barked sternly.

She didn't need telling twice.

Unburdened she quickly caught up with him as they continued down the winding, tree lined path. She went straight to Sam's other side, ducking under his free arm before throwing it round her shoulders and taking up a bit of the slack. Sam was a lot heavier than her and a hell of a lot taller so her assistance was limited but it got them moving a bit faster at least as Sam's feet stumbled all over the place, his body on autopilot whilst his brain took a holiday.

Behind them they could hear the noise of the creatures breaking through the doors and windows, beginning to give chase by leaping through the dense trees, their wings thankfully for gliding rather than flying. Keres, that's what Sam had said they were. At least that's what the Greeks had called them. The Romans had called them Letum and it seemed that the Norse had thought they were the Valkyries although they took a more positive outlook on them than most cultures did. Whatever their name no civilisation had really gotten the facts about them a hundred percent right. Most described them as being women or at least humanoid but in reality they were more beast than man, about the size of a small dog with thick, bat-like wings. Two things they had gotten right though were the razor sharp teeth and long claws which Dean had already discovered through painful experience.

Sam had also said that Keres had a real taste for human blood and were traditionally known for attending scenes of violence to feed on the dying and wounded. Except this lot had apparently got fed up of waiting round for someone to drop and had decided to start causing those scenes of violence for themselves. The local authorities had blamed the recent spate of attacks on a rogue wild animal but Sam hadn't been convinced. He was even less convinced that was the case when one report came in of an odd flying creature seen in the area, likened to a giant bat, and they had consequently headed straight down there to check it out.

In reality they had expected to find only one creature, a rogue individual after all that had for some reason changed nature and needed stopping. Sam likened it to a solitary wild tiger turning man eater. Except this guy certainly wasn't alone and they'd had no idea of that fact until they were horrible outnumbered and under vicious attack.

Exiting the line of trees, Dean and Izzy thankfully came to the place where they had parked the car just off of the dirt track that had led them down to the cabin near where the creature had been spotted.

"Give me your keys," Izzy demanded as they reached the vehicle and propped Sam up against it, both of them panting slightly from the exertion.

Dean's reaction was automatic.

"No".

No one drove his car but him. And very occasionally Sam. But only when Dean himself was so tired that he was going to pass out and for some reason they couldn't stop. If he was reluctant to let his own flesh and blood behind the wheel of his precious car then he certainly wasn't about to let her do it.

"Dean!" she snapped, angry at his stubbornness when they were in such a bad situation, "Give me the damn keys!"

She held her hand out in expectation.

"I don't think so," he said with a shake of his head and an incredulous half smile, implying that she must be crazy for even suggesting it. He reached into his pocket and fished his keys out, unlocking the vehicle with one hand whilst holding Sam upright by a handful of shirt with the other.

All the while the snarling, squealing screams of the creatures were getting closer.

"Get in," he ordered gruffly.

"No."

He looked at her wide eyed. "Excuse me?"

"You can't drive with your arm like that, you idiot" she said scornfully, "You're gonna get us all killed. I'd be better off taking my chances with that lot."

She thumbed back towards the ever growing noise.

"Look, I'm fine," he snapped angrily, certainly not liking how a rookie like her was questioning him, "Now shut up and get in the damn car!"

He knew theirs was an odd relationship. She'd been travelling with them for nigh on two months now and in all that time he could barely remember saying a friendly word to her. Yet he'd always looked out for her and he wasn't going to leave her behind now. After all, he'd reluctantly brought her along in the first place in order to keep her safe, from her own family no less, even if she did have no idea of the threat she lived under. He didn't exactly dislike her. She was actually a pretty decent girl when he thought about it. But he was angry, at her rather than with her. At himself too for being unable to walk away when he'd found out that her father believed all of the yellow eyed demon's chosen psychics were dangerous and therefore planned to kill her if the time came. Angry at himself for taking on a duty that shouldn't have been his but which he somehow couldn't ignore. Maybe that made him a good guy. Maybe it made him an idiot. All he knew was that he now had another person to worry about, even though he already had his plate more than full with worrying about Sam, and it pissed him off that he was just causing more problems for himself. He had to take that out frustration on someone and she was the obvious choice.

Looking at him fiercely, refusing to back down, she stepped straight up to him and grabbed his bicep right across his wounds. She hadn't done it too hard – she wasn't vicious after all – but her grip was enough to make him cry shortly with pain, grimacing, tears squeezing from his tightly shut eyes.

"Oh yeah, you're great to drive," she said sarcastically, wiping the blood now on her hand down the leg of her trousers.

"Fine," he said, drawing long breaths as the pain subsided. He slammed the keys into her palm a little too hard. Must have stung.

He didn't like it but she was essentially right; he was in pain, loosing blood and feeling increasingly light headed and so was really in no fit state to get behind the wheel, especially if there was another choice. Logic said that as the only one of them that wasn't injured, she would have the best chance of getting them safely out of there.

She instantly hurried round to the driver's side whilst Dean opened the rear door and placed Sam in the back, trying to secure him in best he could even though he was groggy, uncooperative and continually mumbling that he wanted to be left alone. By the time Dean was done she was gunning the engine.

"Look out!" was her warning cry, clear even over the familiar sound of the V8.

Dean looked behind him to see the first of the Keres shooting from the trees, heading straight for him with violent intent. He half dived for the passenger door, slamming it shut just as the first one whacked into the door window. It snarled viciously at him, scratching at the glass, staring at him with pearly dead eyes.

As soon as he was safely in she dropped the clutch and the car sped off down the track, getting only a little wheel spin on the loose ground. Girl had a bit of skill, he had to give her that.

The track was admittedly difficult to drive on and the Impala was built for shooting down long straight highways, not skidding along winding gravel roads. Before she'd picked up enough speed to outpace them at least a dozen Keres had attached themselves to the exterior of the car, eager to get at its occupants.

Sliding down the road she twisted and swerved the car as much as she dared, trying to shake their unwanted hitchhikers free without falling off the road themselves. She met with some success as a few of them, failing to get a good grip on the smooth surface, slid off, one or two smacking into trees at the side of the road as they did causing Dean to sport a rather satisfied grin.

That quickly faded however as one of them tumbled down the windscreen and landed on the hood, grabbing at the only thing available to stop itself sliding off the front and under the wheels. Dean's face scrunched in indignation as he watched the creature twist and crush his wiper, gripping at it tightly with its long clawed hands.

"Son of a..." he muttered reaching for the shotgun that he'd placed on the bench seat between himself and Izzy.

Hurriedly winding down the window he grimaced as he had to take all the weight of the weapon on his injured arm. It was shaking, the muscles screaming in protest at the abuse, but he could hold it just about well enough for the job and so he leant out a little, aimed and fired at the thing's face, blasting it well clear of the car and causing Izzy to jump in the process.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she exclaimed, obviously startled, only daring to glance across at him quickly before her eyes returned solidly to the road.

"Protecting my baby," he explained.

Any sarcastic come back she might have had was halted when he cried out in sudden pain, one of the creatures that was still hanging on the roof having bent down and sunk its sharp fangs into his shoulder, using his flesh as a way to hold on for dear life. Dean instantly dropped the shotgun and it landed on the road, falling under the back wheels. The car bounced up and down as they went over it and Dean had to bite back a cry of agony as the creature bounced too, teeth tearing at his flesh.

Izzy obviously couldn't see what was going on but she clearly had a good idea of what had happened.

"My back pocket," she said hurriedly, "There's a dagger."

Breathing heavily, the pain intensifying as the creature added its claws to the mix to, Dean reached across with a trembling hand. He couldn't see what he was doing properly, still stuck half leaning out the window, and his fingers wandered up her thigh and round her backside, feeling their way to where they needed to go.

Any other time he probably would have made a joke about fondling her ass but it was a testament to how much he damn well hurt that he simply couldn't do it. Gratefully his fingers finally found the cool metal handle sticking out her back pocket and he pulled at it. It wasn't exactly big but there again he could hardly expect her to be carrying a machete around in her jeans and it was at least thin and sharp.

Not being able to see what he was doing properly he twisted the best he could and used his good arm to stab the blade up towards where the creature was. He had no idea what he hit but it was obviously something painful as the creature immediately released him with a scream. It slid off of the roof, still in too much agony to even try to scramble and save itself. It fell under the rear wheels of the car with a thud and a crunch.

"Get in and close that damn window!" Izzy ordered.

Dean saw no point in arguing against commonsense.

Sitting back heavily in the seat he took a few long breaths, his injured arm lying useless by his side whilst the other still firmly held the dagger just in case. His shirt one side was covered in blood, the dark stain slow expanding further.

Izzy took a quick glance over at him.

"Dean, I could do without you passing out on me, okay?"

Despite the almost annoyed nature of her words there was a hint of concern in her voice, not only for their situation as a whole but for him in general.

"I'm okay," he insisted, 'okay' being relative right now. He wasn't really okay, he was injured, in a fair amount of pain and had lost blood but he didn't feel on the verge of passing out and he definitely wasn't dead so 'okay' seemed appropriate.

Any further enquiries were cut off as they heard the sound of claws scraping on metal. They'd managed to rid themselves of all but five or so of the creatures but the ones remaining seemed to have gained the knack of holding on to this wild ride and were now trying to bring it to an end. Dean watched as they clambered down towards the belly of the car, obviously having worked out that there was nothing much they could do to the top and so deciding to try their luck underneath instead.

"We've got to get them off of us before they get the fuel line or something," Dean warned, trying to formulate some kind of plan and coming up with nothing that wasn't either suicidal or would leave them as a fireball hitting a tree.

"I know," she said shortly, "Just brace yourself, okay?"

He didn't have time to ask why as the car finally shot off of the track and on to the deserted highway. How she managed to get it to turn ninety degrees almost on a dime he didn't know. Actually he did but he didn't think that anyone apart from him could do it in this car. But she got it on the highway and facing the right way, barely lifting the throttle as she did so, going much faster now that they were on clear, wide blacktop.

Speed wouldn't be enough though.

Negotiating a slight bend they came upon a long, straight, flat piece of road and she took her chance. Yanking up hard on the handbrake she sent them into a whipping one eighty turn, Dean grabbing the dashboard and then grunting in pain as the sudden stop slammed his injured arm into the door. Wasting no time she lit up the tires and went into a fast reverse, the crunch, bump and squeals of creatures under the wheels showing that she'd achieved her aim. On the road outside the windscreen Dean spotted three piles of fresh road kill disappearing into the darkness as they continued to reverse. When she had the car going as fast as it could she performed the manoeuvre again, twisting them to face the right way as two more creatures rolled out from underneath, bodies skipping across the tarmac as the car hurriedly continued onwards.

No doubt about it, the girl could drive. Really, really drive. He made a mental note to ask her about it later once he wasn't feeling so woozy and was in less pain. For now he leaned his head against cool the door frame, resting back heavily in his seat once more.

"Dean?" she asked, the concern in her voice there again, "You still with me?"

"Yeah," he said giving himself a moment to pull it together before he lifted his head and looked behind him in the rear view mirror.

"Sammy?" he asked, pain making it hard to avoid sounding narked, "You unconscious yet, bitch?"

His brother's response was grumbled and sleepy sounding but he was sure he heard the word 'jerk' there and that made Dean smile a bit.

That faded however as he went to check out the damage to his own arm, lifting pieces of his shredded sleeve away and noticing that his flesh hadn't fared much better. He sucked in a sharp breath as the fingers of his uninjured side ever so lightly brushed at his bloodied arm, leaving him needing to fight a sudden wave of nausea as he felt something like acid fire burn deep in his muscles.

As he closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass, he could hear rather than see Izzy's frown.

"You want me to pull over and take a look at that?"

Unless he'd missed something along the way he knew she wasn't a qualified doctor and your basic Girl Scout first aid wasn't going to be much good here so he didn't see the point in that.

"No," he said, managing to keep his voice even despite feeling increasingly woozy everywhere else, "Just get us back into town okay? And try not to get us killed along the way."

She turned to him and was probably about to start another argument about how she'd just saved his sorry ass when she saw his smile.

They continued onwards in silence, hurtling towards Tallahassee and the local hospital.

Dean smiled broadly at the nurse and she momentarily smiled back before looking at bit embarrassed and concentrated on dressing his wounds once more. He chuckled to himself a bit; she'd obviously been checking him out and liked what she saw. There were some perks to getting injured after all.

"Keep still," the woman said quietly.

"Sorry," he replied although he really wasn't.

That was followed by an 'ow!' as she accidentally poked a little too hard at his freshly stitched wound.

"Sorry," she replied with a slight smile, just as sincere as he had been.

A few minutes later she was finished and was just leaving the room as Izzy entered in her wake.

"Hey," she said in greeting as she walked over to the bed that he was sitting on yet refusing to get into on principle, "Thought you might need this."

She held out a fresh t-shirt that she had retrieved from his bag in the car. The one that he'd been wearing was torn and bloody enough to have been thrown straight in the trash when they'd removed it to get at his wounds.

"Thanks," he replied, as he sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed, trying not to look too surprised at the gesture. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn't the total bitch he fabricated her to be in his head simply because that made it easier to dislike her.

He tried to shrug off the gown they'd gotten him to wear but with his arm bandaged and feeling leaden that proved difficult. She did watch him struggle for a long moment before she finally intervened, her want to help him eventually over riding her obvious discomfort at being so close to someone she usually didn't get on with.

"Oh come here," she said, sounding the tiniest bit annoyed that she was forced to get herself into this situation. She moved round behind him, deft fingers undoing the knot at his neck and then pushing the gown off his shoulders. He shivered almost imperceptibly as the very tips of her fingers brushed lightly over his shoulder blades, the movement unwittingly tender. She was careful against his injured arm, gripping at the gown's short sleeve and helping him to pull it down. Her fingers swept along the flesh of his arm as she did so and he found the feeling oddly inviting.

He almost smiled when he caught her taking a slight peak at his bare chest but it quickly faded however when he remembered who she was. She wasn't just some pretty brunette he met in a bar. She wasn't some nurse who he'd only know until morning. This was Izzy. He had to travel with her, be around her day and night and he didn't want this. It was dangerous ground to be treading.

She bunched the new shirt up and pushed it over his head.

"You know I can probably do this for myself," he pointed out, throat a little dry.

"No you can't so shut it," she reasoned, her voice even and steady, a master at hiding whatever she felt.

He knew she could feel it though. There was an undeniable atmosphere between them, had been since they'd met, but at that moment it was for once not hidden under a veil of ill feeling and bad tempered bickering.

She helped him slide his injured arm through the sleeve and then left him to deal with the rest, assumingly not wanting him to feel totally useless.

"You been in to see Sam yet?" he asked, needing to strike up some kind of distracting conversation almost as much as he wanted to know the answer to the question, "How's he doing now?"

Dean had wanted to go in there himself but the nurses had insisted that his brother was fine and that he should be worrying about his own injuries. He'd lost a reasonable amount of blood and they'd had to give him various drugs for the pain and to prevent infection so therefore he needed to sit down and not move for at least a couple of hours whilst his body sorted itself out.

"He's fine," Izzy said with a nod, "Headache the size of Texas but otherwise okay. And feeling suitably apologetic about not realising before that the Ker wouldn't be alone."

Dean smiled a bit.

"He damn well should too."

He looked at her in the moment of silence that followed before something caught his attention and he frowned.

"You hurt?" he asked, nodding at the blood stain on her leg.

A little perplexed she followed his gaze and quickly slipped in to denial when she realised what he was referring to, shaking her head.

"No. No, that's yours, remember?"

He did actually, yes, his arm throbbing at the memory of her grabbing it in an all too successful demonstration of her point.

"Sorry about that by the way," he added, grimacing a little as she recalled what she'd done, obviously not best pleased with herself.

He shrugged. To be honest the way he'd been acting of late he wouldn't blame her if she'd enjoyed making him hurt just a little bit. After all, he'd probably hurt her plenty in the past few weeks with his snide remarks and cold attitude even though she likely wouldn't admit that it bothered her if asked. He supposed it could be considered to be a kind of karma, what goes around comes around and all that.

"Don't worry about it," he brushed off with a wave of his hand, "And for the record you were right, I wasn't in any kind of shape to drive."

To her credit she didn't rub his nose in it.

Ten minutes later she was sitting in his room once more, perched a little awkwardly on the foot of his bed, having brought coffee for them both. It was machine rubbish but it was hot and strong and would do in the circumstances. He watched carefully as she folded up a napkin and placed it on the plastic table, using it as a makeshift coaster. He almost laughed at the sight. He couldn't imagine living the life they did and still being able to think of little things like that. But she was different, had grown up different, he had to remember that. Even so she did surprise him at times.

But never more so than she had that night. Truth of it was he'd considered her as little more than a burden or a nuisance in his life since he'd met her, cursing the day he'd heard what her father had planned and wondering why someone else couldn't be the hero for once.

He knew he wasn't always the most tolerant guy and his dislike for her was thinly veiled. Sam had been a bit annoyed at him about it. He was fond of Izzy in a friendly, sisterly kind of way and he thought Dean was being very unfair to her, his naturally protective nature coming out. She was a nice girl and she was useful he had pointed out. She was only trying to help and she certainly didn't deserve Dean's constant attitude. Dean had reasoned that she really wasn't that useful actually; so she could sense spirits and demons, big deal. They had the meters for that. They'd gotten by without a psychic empath radar before and they could still do so now. Which always made Sam wonder why therefore Dean had asked her to come along in the first place and since that was something Dean wasn't prepared to discuss his answer was always irritable and left them both in a bad mood.

Even he had to admit though that she wasn't quite the burden he made her out to be. As far as he knew she'd never purposefully been hunting in her life before, but she had come across things and had been taught how to take care of herself that much was obvious. Her skill with the car had been a big surprise though and he was pretty sure that getaway driving wasn't something she'd ever been specifically taught. It made him curious as to where and how she'd picked it up.

"So," he said, between sips of coffee, "You have a secret stock car racing past or something?"

She smiled slightly.

"No," she explained with an obvious fondness for the memory, "My boyfriend and I used to fix these old wrecks up and race them on weekends when we were in college."

"You had a boyfriend?"

"Yes," she replied, giving him a dry look, "Thanks for sounding so surprised."

"I didn't mean that," he said with a shake of his head, knowing that that had come out wrong, "It's just that most people like us...we'll they don't exactly lead stunningly normal lives."

"Your brother did," she pointed out, "For a while at least."

"Yeah," Dean said grimly, "And look how that ended up."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I guess there is no getting away from it, is there?"

As much as she tried to hide it, she looked a little sad at the thought and Dean felt kind of bad for making her have it in the first place. He guessed that he wasn't the only one who sometimes longed for a life away from all this, nor the only one who secretly wished he could have an average happy life with a family and a home. Seemed that in their line of work that was hard to come by though.

"Well thanks," he said, for once not grudgingly, "You saved our asses back there."

She glanced up from where she'd suddenly been intently studying the remains of her coffee, lightening the mood once more with a smile.

"You know," she pointed out, "If you really wanna thank me you can stop leaving your socks in the sink at every place we stay at."

He grinned a bit too at that.

"How about I leave them in the bathroom sink rather than the kitchen one?" he suggested.

"That would be a start."

There was silence for a short moment.

"You know you should be resting," she reasoned and he wondered briefly whether she was making excuses because she actually felt a bit uncomfortable with being around him when they weren't at each other's throats, "I'm going to go along and see how Sam's doing."

"You can't stay here all night looking out for us," Dean said, somehow suddenly feeling a bit of genuine concern for her wellbeing as well as her life, "Why don't you go back to the motel and meet us in the morning?"

She raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You mean you're going to let me drive your car again?"

"No but I'd give you money for a cab."

She shook her head, smiling a little in amused disbelief.

"Well thanks for the offer but it's okay. I'm fine. Really."

She stood up from the edge of the bed and, after thinking about it just for a moment, leant across and kissed him on the cheek, her lips pillow soft against his stubble.

"What was that for?" he asked a little stunned and unnaturally lacking his usual confidence when she pulled away.

She shrugged, "I'm trying to recondition you. Teach you that when you're being pleasant for once good things happen."

Good things indeed, he realised, still feeling the warmth her lips had left on his cheek long after she had left the room. He knew he shouldn't be thinking it, knew he should ignore the warm feelings that he'd been having for her for quite a while now but which he'd trampled over and buried in an attempt to ignore.

Maybe it was the drugs still floating round his system, maybe it was because he was still light headed from the blood loss and pain. Whatever it was it allowed him to indulge in a pleasant thought as his eyes closed and sleep began to take him, wondering what it would be like to kiss those soft lips of hers for real and somehow knowing that it would be amazing. Deep down he knew he really could like this girl if he gave her half a chance. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing no matter how much the idea made him smile.


End file.
